


A School Dance to Forget

by Silvestria



Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Prom, Prompt Fill, sorry eleanor, this is basically what happened at my high school prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvestria/pseuds/Silvestria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested by Alex: "A snippet from Eleanor's first school dance. 20th century."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A School Dance to Forget

After the unexpected discovery of asbestos in the changing rooms had closed Twerton Select School for Girls for the duration of the summer term leading to a huge amount of chaos during the public examination season, it had been touch and go whether the leavers ball would actually take place.  
  
The ball committee, however, was extremely determined and, with the help of the boys from the Queen Elizabeth Grammar School, they booked a local golf club for the big evening. For most of the class of '11 this was an exciting opportunity to wear classy dresses instead of their usual preference for slutty and to finally pull their crush while swaying under a disco ball. For Eleanor Clare, it sounded like hell. She had no date, no dress, and she hated most popular music. If it hadn't been for the interference of her best friend, Becky Pickwell, she probably would not have gone at all but rather spent the entire evening at home watching the Discovery Channel.  
  
Becky, however, had dragged her shopping and persuaded her to buy a [pretty, blue prom dress](http://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/STUNNING-SATIN-COCKTAIL-WEDDING-EVENING-BRIDESMAID-PROM-DRESS-SIZE-8-24-/230850308167) that did in fact look very sweet on her. By this point, Eleanor found that she rather enjoyed dressing up and started to look forward to the ball. She was also looking forward to seeing Matt Bradley, the cute but nerdy treasurer of the Queen Elizabeth and Twerton Girls combined maths club, but she did not mention this hope to anyone. She did not expect he would ask her to the dance as a date but perhaps they might talk for a few minutes when they were there. They might even dance...  
  
On the night of the ball, she got ready at Becky's house. Her friend straightened her hair and did her make-up and at the end of it Eleanor hardly recognised herself. She thought she looked far more grown up and far prettier than she had ever imagined she could be. It was something of a revelation but instead of giving her confidence, she only felt more awkward in her own skin and kept tugging on the neckline to pull it up, despite it really not being very revealing at all. It didn't help that Becky kept calling her “girlfriend” and telling her how hot she looked. She meant it to be supportive, she knew, but Becky sometimes did not quite know where to draw the line.  
  
Mrs. Pickwell drove them to the golf club in her car, dropping them outside among all the limos that the popular girls had hired.  
  
“Limos are for losers!” exclaimed Becky loudly as she grabbed Eleanor's hand and tugged her down the red carpet, past an entire crowd of girls in short cocktail dresses with identikit straightened hair and fake tans who rolled their eyes at them. Becky did not seem to notice as she swept a glass of champagne from the waiter but Eleanor did as she took an orange juice. She really hadn't grown accustomed to the taste of alcohol and she was a bit scared of what would happen if she drank too much of it – say, an entire glass. She disapproved so strongly of drunkenness, it was important not ever to give into temptation.  
  
The start of the evening was not too gruelling an ordeal for it consisted of the meal. Eleanor and Becky got a table with some others of their friends, and the rather lonesome boyfriend of one of them. The meal was good, nobody was drinking too much, and there was entertainment enough in taking posed photos of each other. After dinner came the speeches, earnestly delivered by the ball committee who had taken the entire thing far more seriously than they had their A Levels.  
  
After that it got interesting, or at least it did for those girls who were on the way to drunkenness and had brought a date. The DJ turned up the volume and dimmed the lights and kicked the evening's merriment off with a Lady Gaga hit. Becky, several glasses of champagne the worse for wear, dragged Eleanor onto the dance floor. Eleanor had taken her ballroom dancing class very seriously but she only felt self-conscious jigging around on the dance floor. As she danced, squinting in the strobe lighting, she tried to find Matt somewhere in the room, but she could not see him. As she shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, not daring to lift her arms higher than her elbows, she became aware of a feeling of disappointment, even though she had not talked to Matt for several weeks and had made no mention of the ball when she had done so.  
  
After the first song was over, Eleanor squirmed her way back to the sidelines under the pretext of getting some water. There she was joined by one of Matt's friends, Rory. He sat down next to her.  
  
“Hey, Ellie. Enjoying the ball?”  
  
“Oh yes, thank you,” she replied, clasping her hands very tightly in her lap.  
  
“So Matt said he wasn't coming because he's lame but do you want to dance with me in his name?”  
  
Eleanor eyed him. “Um.”  
  
“Just pretend I'm him or something. C'mon, Ellie, it'll be fun.”  
  
The DJ had just put on a new track, in which the words _motherfucker_ and _crotch_ seemed to be repeated far more often than they should be. He had to shout in her ear to be heard.  
  
“I guess,” she mumbled and then had to repeat it at a yell. “Maybe later?”  
  
“Sure thing. I'll come and find you.” He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. “You look really cute tonight, Ellie.”  
  
Her eyes were wide. “Um, thanks.”  
  
This was the most traumatic conversation of the evening. Rory was about a foot taller than her and alarming in a very male way. She did not know how to deal with that and the prospect of actually having to dance with him caused her such terror that she spent most of the rest of the evening hiding in the girls' toilets. Becky found her there an hour or so later.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” she said, perching on the edge of the sink. “ _Eleanor_! In a few months you're going to be let loose on your own in London where you will actually be surrounded by real human beings, some of whom might actually find you hot. You're not even going to have me to look out for you. Sweetie, you are going to _die_.”  
  
Eleanor nodded miserably. She was pretty sure she would rather die than actually take up her place at King's College in the autumn.  
  
“Ugh.” Becky jumped down from the sink. “Come and have some champagne. You'll feel better then.”  
  
She resisted. “I think I'd rather just call a taxi and go home, if you don't mind.” She could not bear the idea of going out there and seeing Rory and knowing that he knew that she'd blown him off. That was almost worse than actually having to dance with him.  
  
Her friend flung up her arms. “Fine, whatever. You go home then. Me, I'm gonna get plastered! Wooooooo!” And she strutted, slightly unbalanced on very high heels, out of the bathroom.  
  
Eleanor watched her go and sighed. Didn't Becky see how undignified she looked? And yet she was at least enjoying herself. She sighed again in resignation and pulled out her phone to dial for a taxi.


End file.
